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Davy Jones
Posted by Ferdinand, Nov 8, 2008. 1337 views. ID = 1994
This post was written in 14 minutes.
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 | The entire poem all in one entry so you can read it in one flow. |  | This post has been awarded 52 stars by 11 readers. |  | This post is Part 11 of a writing series titled Davy Jones. |
One foolish lad stood on the sandy shore
And longed for freedom of the open sea.
He listened there as breakers loudly roared;
That foolish lad, my brothers, he was me.
For I was sick to tears of permanence,
Solidity as dreadful as the grave.
My soul cried out for vast and distant lands;
I hungered for the rolling of the waves.
Oh! Had I known what terrors lay in wait,
What devils hid beneath the deep blue sea,
Perhaps I would have grasped a solid fate,
And lived a simple life within the lee.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
But e'en a foolish lad with wanderlust
Has roots that tightly bind him to the earth;
My root of strength in every stormy gust -
A lovely maid, immeasurable of worth.
When craving came for vast and open seas
And howling wind and crashing ocean spray,
She clung to me, she pleaded on her knees,
With soulful weeping begged that I should stay.
Oh, would that I had heeded all her tears,
And promised then to never leave her side!
But all her words fell still on deafened ears,
And I abandoned her on evening tide.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
But you, my brothers, know the siren call
That tears us from our homes and wooded dell,
That tests our strength against the stormy squall
And drags us out across the shifting swell.
Recall, my brothers, how we met that day,
So young and foolish, confident and brave,
While salty odors swept across the quay
And sunlight glistened on the tossing wave.
Remember how the bonds of friendship grew,
More swiftly than our ship upon the wind -
Oh, sailors, only fearsome Davy knew
How tragically our brotherhood would end!
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
A crew invincible and without fear,
We fairly skimmed across the wild, deep sea,
With songs and ale, with coarse and manly cheer,
We passed the months with laughing bonhomie.
From Europe, 'round the tip of Africa,
And to the rich, exotic Orient,
We traversed strange and distant shores with awe,
Indulged ourselves with every sight and scent.
And oh, the wondrous spices of the east
That filled our sailing vessel's spacious hold,
Remember how we laughed and sat to feast,
And dreamed of wealth uncounted and untold.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
Yet on the journey home, cruel Davy blew
An ill wind pummeling our fragile bark;
It tossed us all about and chilled us through,
While rain began to pelt and skies grew dark.
See how the rising waves began to loom,
And how our helpless vessel spun and turned.
Like Jonah's mates we bailed against our doom,
As water splashed aboard from bow to stern.
Then one by one I saw companions fall,
As wave and wind did lift them o'er the rail
And tumbled them to Davy's ghoulish pall,
Amidst the raging of his savage gale.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
A thund'rous clap, a shriek of scraping planks:
Our ship, without a warning burst in two,
And we, in horror watched as flotsam sank,
And Davy Jones began to take his due.
Bereft of bravery, we clung to scraps
Of barrels, masts, or slabs of broken beams;
And watched in horror as our hopes collapsed
Swept ever down with all our vanished dreams.
Then 'round and 'round in ever widening gyre,
A vortex dragged the broken ship below
Consumed and lost in Davy's wat'ry fire
And we, as well, were caught within the flow.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
I sank beneath the cold torrential wave,
Sank once, then twice, and rose to gasp for air,
Recalled the sailor's lore on wat'ry graves:
Once, and twice, the third one is fore'er.
And so I swam with grim and desperate fear;
I prayed to God that I might see the shore,
And promised Him with grave and anxious tears
That I would leave my lady love no more.
I dreamed of twilight walks amidst the pines,
My lady love and I in wooded glen,
Then one last wave of cold and cruel brine,
Imprisoned me and dragged me down again.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
From nightmare into nightmare then I fell,
And saw the monsters of the darkest deep
With demon eyes that blazed of fiery hell;
I closed my eyes to an eternal sleep.
Yet with my eyelids closed, still I could see
The spinning, turning, writhing mass of men:
My brothers, you who drowned that day with me
And sank to ghastly depths beyond our ken.
Imagination plays uncanny tricks;
I saw the wings of angels all around,
And they, with gentle smiles, my soul transfixed,
And brought me courage, even as I drowned.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
Yet angels, even more than spawn of hell,
Have power over desperate sailor's souls,
They lifted me above the raging swell
And granted me an undeserved parole.
Oh, I am proof that angels hear our prayers,
So do not say that hope is ever gone,
For heaven listens to each human care,
And every night is followed by the dawn.
Astonished to be breathing and alive,
I woke upon a distant, lovely shore
Rejoicing in the knowledge I survived -
And longing for the maiden I adore.
Oh, sing, my brothers! Sing of second chance,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
Yes, sing, my brothers! Sing, and brightly dance,
Down in the murky depths with Davy Jones.
For life is snatched out of the jaws of death,
And I have drawn a new and blessed breath!
But cruel fate would play me false once more,
As I returned to this, the village that I left,
My lady love was gone from earthly shores -
In grief she leapt from tall and jagged cleft.
And so I sit upon this precipice,
This wretched Widow's Watch on which she died,
And dream of one last sweet and passioned kiss;
One more embrace from her, my lovely bride.
Oh, how I long to take that desperate leap,
To end my grief upon the crashing wave,
But I've surveyed that fearsome, dreadful deep,
And cannot face the terror of the grave.
I cannot go to her, nor she to me,
Forever lost beneath that churning sea.
So sing, my brothers! Sing a mournful tune,
Amidst the barnacles and dead men's bones.
As waves are stilled beneath a cold gray moon,
Sink down to murky depths with Davy Jones.
And sing farewell to all the world above,
For I shall see no more my lady love.
Copyright 2008 Ferdinand. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
| This post has been awarded 52 stars by 11 readers. | | This post is Part 11 of a writing series titled Davy Jones. |  | This is a revised version of a post. Click here to view the original version
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Comments
Douglas
Nov 16, 2008 | Nice surprise ending there - it was the lady love who drowned, not the narrator. :-( This is in the featured gallery now.
~Posted by Douglas, Nov 16, 2008 |
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